Nobody Wins
by everyone'ssister
Summary: Tag for 11.12 The similarities between the Winchester brothers and the Wayward Daughters are undeniable. But it's harder to tell if Dean and Sam have been any real help to the girls?


Tag for 11.12 The similarities between the Winchester brothers and the Wayward Daughters are undeniable. Buts it's harder to tell if Dean and Sam have been any real help to the girls.

NOBODY WINS

It was one of those questions probably better left unasked. One of those thoughts that probably should have gone unvoiced. One of those feelings you should have buried deep inside you forever and ever and made yourself forget about. But Sam can't help himself he says it.

"Do you ever feel like we kinda, I don't know, leave our germ behind?" He asks Dean, sitting beside him on the impala's front bench seat. As they head back to their motel leaving Jody, Alex, and Claire to clean up each other's bloody messes.

He feels the mood immediately drop, feels like the air gets sucked right out of the impala. All is still for moment. Sam almost doesn't believe he just said that out loud until Dean heaves a huge breath and shoots him a look that says, "You just had to go there didn't you?"

Sam looks down at his lap a little ashamedly. He never means to bring up all the true, miserable things but it kind of just happens. He watches Dean's free hand, the one not on the impala's wheel, clench in a fist against his pant leg.

Sam flexes his jaw, hoping he hasn't royally screwed up. Like silent treatment for the next 48 hours kind of screwed up. He watches out of the corner of his eyes as Dean seems to contemplate his answer, thumb beating methodically against his baby's wheel to the humming radio. At least he doesn't turn it up to an ear shattering volume like he used to. However he's in no rush to answer Sam either.

He finally nods thoughtfully, "Know what you mean," Dean says quietly, sitting up straight and looking behind him as he switches lanes to pull into their motel, "We caught the germ too Sam, it's like cancer or brain tumors there's no way of telling why some people get it and why others don't, there's no way of telling where it'll strike next.

"And just like people who have cancer go to support groups and meet other cancer victims, we have our community too. We help each other out, we show each other our secrets. Help each other stay on our feet when the ground is rocky, it a terrible thing to share, but at the same time...it's kind of beautiful too."

Sam looks at his brother like he's grown another a head.

"Think about the chance we have with Jody and the girls? A chance we otherwise would have never had to taste some home cooked food, and help them stick together like we have."

"They may not be together much longer," Sam blurts out before he can stop himself, God, what is wrong with him tonight?

Dean nods, "Your probably right, they probably won't be together much longer, but they'll always have this to go back to, Sam. They'll have this to work for, that's what counts."

Dean parks the car in front of their room, "I know sometimes it feels like we're no help," he frowns over the wheel of his Baby, "But sometimes life is just hard Sam." He looks back to his brother, "Sometimes helping doesn't feel so hot, sometimes loving someone is hurting them more than anything."

Sam watches years of hurt and experience wash over Dean's face, as his mind wanders over the words he's just spoke to Sam. Memories of how he learned these lessons the hard way. His brother takes on years of aging as the mask drops off for a few breathtaking seconds.

When Dean looks back to Sam smiling reassuringly and uncranking the car, Sam is actually stunned momentarily with the switch, it's so quick and, nearly imperceptible.

"Let's go and have a look at you," his big brother tells him, as Sam sits with his mouth opened. Never in a thousand years, would he have guessed they would have a conversation where Dean told him something was BEAUTIFUL.

"I'm fine Dean," he says, following Dean's example and getting out of the car.

"Oh,' Dean says, pointing at him, "And don't think for minute Jody didn't tell me about the two-by-four AND the sledgehammer."

Sam sighs dramatically, "You two will be the death of me." He says, trudging after Dean and into their room with him.

"Sammy, if you're hurt you should just tell me." Dean states severely.

"I would!" Sam says, spreading his hands innocently. "The two of you!" He exclaims, "You're like...like Florence Nightingale and Mother Teresa ON STERIODS."

Dean snorts a laugh over Sam's description of badass Dean Winchester and the honorable sheriff of Sioux Falls.

Dean heads out the door with a handful of quarters. Let Sammy play with fire.

"Where ya' going?" Sam asks, from his seat at the foot of his bed.

"Going to get some ice for that hard head of yours." Sam shakes his head after him.

"Don't shake your head at me," Dean says, "Get in the shower while I'm gone and work some of those sore muscles out, and if your lucky when I get back I'll sing you a lullaby."

"Oh my go..." Dean leaves the room chuckling, shutting the door on Sam's complaint.

Dean sees what Sam is saying. He knows the feeling of being poison. Being the death card that passes from one loved one to the next. He also knows life's a bitch. Nobody 'wins', no one is dealt a 'perfect hand'.

And while their problems might be bigger and a bit bloodier than normal people's everyone has difficulties. Everyone suffers lose, and grief, and pain. And while it may seem unfair, Dean just sees it as those who knows the truth about the things that go bump in the night are the ones prepared, and they should be thankful. Be thankful they don't have to be afraid. They don't have to be afraid of what life brings.

But who is he kidding? Everyone is afraid of the unpredictable things life sends them. Dean could have never been prepared for what closing hell's gates meant for them, he was never prepared for the repercussions of taking the mark, Sam wasn't prepared to bear the guilt of releasing the darkness. Life was a bitch.

He walks back to the room with the ice for Sam's head, thinking.

The only thing you could count on was what you had in your hands, what you fought to keep. Dean counts on Sam, but he fights finger, tooth and nail for his little brother. He can't imagine surviving without Sam, but he's prepared to die in order to keep him alive. That's fair game, that makes sense, Dean can understand that, he can see that, feel that.

Keeping Sam by his side, that's as much winning as he needs.

He goes into the room to find Sam in the shower as advised, so he prepares the ice by wrapping it in the hand towel by the kitchen sink. Sam comes out of the bathroom shirtless, towel drying his hair and winces as he raises his arms.

Dean whistles at the array of bruises his brother is showing off, "Shoulda told me bring the entire ice box."

"Shut up," Sam says, groaning as he stretches out on the bed farthest from the door.

Dean hands him the ice, and watches carefully that his little brother applies it to his forehead. Sam rolls his eyes at Dean, but presses the ice to the sore spot on his head, the ach flaming up a soon as the coldness hits it.

"Why does everything that helps you have to hurt so bad?" he whines, cracking an eye to peer at Dean who is moving around the room, checking the salt lines and gathering clothes together getting ready to shower, and turning off the lights for Sam.

Dean smiles down at him amiably, "That's just the way it is, Sammy." He shuts the curtains tightly makes his way towards the bathroom door as Sam's eyes grow heavy. "Well, all I can say is I'm glad this case is over." He states just inside the door, silhouetted by the bathroom light.

"Why's that?" Sam asks, slurring his words with sleep.

"Didn't get to eat my burger," Dean laughs, closing the door and throwing Sam into darkness except for the thin line of light leaking out from under the door. Sam falls asleep as the shower turns on and Dean begins to hum Metallica.

...

Dean and Sam hug Jody one last time and then climb into the impala waving their last goodbyes to Alex and Claire. Dean pulls out of the drive way without looking back, but he does notice Sam turning a little in his seat to gaze back at them as long as he can.

"We did our best for them Sam," he says, reassuringly. Knowing his little brother inside and out.

Sam looks at him with a gentle frown gracing his forehead, "I know, but Alex and Claire are so much like us and I just feel like we've done nothing to stop them from going down this road, kinda feel like we've patted them on the head and sent them on their way...even though we know how this ends." He looks over to his big brother miserably.

"What can I say Sam?" Dean asks, settling into his seat for the long drive back home. "Is it easy, is it right? No. But the monsters bit the dust and that's what counts. Us...them," he motions back towards Jody's house, "We're the ones who do that, we're the ones who spill blood all over our hands, that's something to be proud of. That we're strong enough to sacrifice our innocence for someone else's lives."

"It doesn't feel like a win though." Sam mummers, since Dean seems to be a particularly sharing mood this hunt.

Dean sighs, "You're right about Claire and Alex, they're probably headed straight down the broken road, and there's no happy ending waiting for them." He runs a relaxed hand over Baby's wheel, "We both know Alex will never get out," he points over to Sam with the mention of her name. "Claire will end violent and bloody...a hunter's death." He places a firm hand on his chest when he mentions the blond haired kid that has obviously found a way into his heart.

"And even though we kill the bad guys, we don't win." Dean offers a resigning shrug, "Nobody wins. It's the life hack, it's the thing that people miss out on while their looking for purpose and meaning and success, they miss the fact that everybody loses something that means everything to them, and everyone follows the same bloody road."

Sam knows Dean is right. Knows his brother has learned these things through experience, and Sam can see the truth in it. Sees all the hurt around them in the world, in a world that doesn't know the evil things that slink around in the shadows. Sees how 'normal' people suffer. Life is just generally a bitch.

Which is why they should take the good stuff when it comes.

Just like Dean said, love Jody and Alex and Claire while they still have them, help them while they can. Alex wouldn't listen if they told her to give up normal life, Claire wouldn't listen if they told her to forget hunting, Dean and Sam can only offer and receive what they will take and what they give.

And even though the knowledge of where Alex and Claire are heading leaves Dean and Sam's hearts heavy, they know there is no other way. No other way for them to realize that what you need is in front of you the whole time.

So Sam decides to take what good he can get. Jody's cooking is in the back seat for supper, Dean's happy and alive behind the steering wheel of his Baby beside Sam.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we can try the Elvis out some other time, huh?" He asks, giving him a soft smile.

Dean looks at him shocked, "Really?" He asks.

Sam nods smiling, "Yeah, we'll have to some time."

Dean pumps his fist in happy triumph.

And even though in the end nobody wins, Dean and Sam feel pretty good about themselves. They're side by side, heading full throttle down the unknown road...towards their next adventure.

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